


Lavender

by demonsushi01



Series: Klance Trope Month 2k20 [28]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Diet angst really, Dreams and Nightmares, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, POV Keith (Voltron), Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, hair pulling / biting / and pinching specifically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonsushi01/pseuds/demonsushi01
Summary: Day 28. Nightmare/CuddlingKeith keeps having reoccurring nightmares about being alone and being unable to find the people he cares about. It takes a toll on his mental health and Lance notices.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Klance Trope Month 2k20 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727086
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	Lavender

**Author's Note:**

> Note: The self-harm/self-destruction is in two throw away lines, specifically Keith is biting his knuckles and arms, pinching himself, and pulling his hair to make himself stay awake.

All Keith can see is a flat expanse of sand stretching out around him. The sun is bright and hot, bearing down on him with an intensity that makes him think about ants under a magnifying glass. He runs, sand shifting under his feet and slowing him down. His mom is out here somewhere, he just  _ knows _ it. 

“Mom!?” He shouts. Nothing changes. It’s hot, it’s bright, he’s sweaty and can hardly breathe. He uses his arm to block out the sun for the moment, spinning around slowly. But there’s nothing around him to use as a landmark. 

There are no rolling sandy hills. There are no sun-bleached bones or remains of an unfortunate creature. No dying, twisted, plant ready to snap and tumble under the non-existent breeze. No bodies of water, mirage or real, in the distance. Hell, his footprints don’t even exist. 

It’s only him in the flat sand and heat. He growls, his instincts are failing him and he can’t tell where he’d come from or where he should go. He picks a direction and runs again, shouting for a mother who had never been in his life before and trying desperately to find her. 

He falls, sand burning his palms and legs. He screams in frustration. He’s tired. He lays on his back and stares up at the bright sky. After a moment he gets up and runs again. But no matter how much he runs, how loud he screams, he’s alone.

.ooo.

Keith wakes up breathing heavily and feeling like he’d run a mile or two. His body aches and when he kicks his blankets off he finds himself coated in sweat. He takes a few deep breaths, gets up, and showers. 

He sits down in the dining area, rubbing his face as he looks at the questionable food Coran has prepared for breakfast this morning. Which tells him Coran woke before Hunk did today. Lance slides into the seat next to him and makes a strange noise when he looks at Keith.

“You look awful, man.” He says.

“I’m tired.” Keith grunts. 

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“No.” He grunts and powers through the weird texture of the food in front of him. Though honestly, each bite makes him want to gag, he just turns his mind off and swallows it with as minimal chewing as possible.

The next few sleep cycles are like this. Chasing the ghost of his mother in a neverending expanse of sun, sand, and sweat. He wonders if learning about his new heritage has made the old ache rise up from his mind. A new piece to the puzzle that is his life, his mom, and why she’d left. 

But the answer isn’t enough. She’s alive, an alien but specifically Galran in origin, a member of a rebellious group, and  _ nothing  _ else. No picture or name, just a knife. And it makes him wonder how much his dad knew. It makes him wonder about another old ache of his, if his dad  _ really _ died.

.zzz.

It’s dark this time. He can see the silhouettes of tall, nearly black, buildings surrounding him. Everything around him is hazy though, smoke filling his lungs and cutting his vision. It’s hot in its own way. No bright sun beating on him, but a fire surrounding him and slowly encroaching on where he stands. He coughs, trying to fan the smoke from his face as he looks for his dad.

_ But, weren’t we looking for mom? _

No. No, he’s  _ sure  _ he’s been looking for his dad. He can’t get enough of a breath to shout for him though. He drops himself to his knees and crawls like he’d been taught before. It should have kept him out of the smoke a bit more, but all he can taste is the bitter flavor of it on the back of his tongue.

“Dad!” He shouts, coughs, wheezes. The ground under him is burning. His head spins and he can feel the ache of tears at the back of his throat and stinging his eyes. He’s alone.

.ooo.

Waking up crying and mourning his dad is not new. It’s been quite a long time since it last happened though. He hates it, every piece of it. He runs his hands through his hair, shivers from the sweat cooling on his body, and showers.

He can feel exhaustion tug at his bones but it’s ignorable. During a round of training as a team, he can feel himself get sloppy with his strikes and he gets knocked on his ass. He lays there for a few moments. The training comes to a halt as his team comes over to make sure he’s okay.

“I’m fine.” He sighs, pushing himself up to his feet.

“Are you sure?” Lance asks him. 

“Yeah. Just tired.” 

“Ugh, same.” Pidge groans. 

“Can we be done now?” Hunk asks Shiro who relents. Training is called for the day and the team sigh with relief as they all make their way to the showers. 

“Keith?” Shiro calls him before he can follow the rest.

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Keith reassures him. He can see the gears are turning behind Shiro’s eyes as he thinks silently and a small frown on his lips.

“You’ll talk to me if that changes, right?”

“Of course.” Keith nods. Shiro still looks like there’s more he wants to say, but doesn’t. He simply leaves his mentor behind in the training room.

.zzz.

He’s running through a maze of metal walls as red lights flash and emergency alarms blare over and over. His suit has already taken on extensive damage, meaning he’s aware of the steadily rising temperature on the ship and how thin the air feels in his lungs. He has to find Shiro.

_ But we were looking for dad? _

_ No, it was mom? _

He shakes his head. They’re both gone,  _ why  _ would he be looking for them? He  _ needs _ Shiro. The labyrinth just doesn’t seem to end. He can feel sweat starting to bead on his brow, drip down along his back as he tries desperately to breathe any air he can. He hits dead-end after dead-end, backtracking, and taking different routes. He’s horribly lost without a way to track where he’s been.

It doesn’t mean he hasn’t tried. He’s used his bayard, his mom’s knife but the marks are gone the second he looks away. His head spins as the heat starts to get to him. He collapses in one of the halls, trying to breathe, boiling in his suit. He’s alone.

.ooo.

He wakes up and finds he’d ended up lying face down on his pillow and had been slowly smothering himself by accident. He’s woozy as he sits up, grimacing at the sweat on his body. 

“Come on.” He hisses at no one, getting up and calling it morning now.

His exhaustion level increases. He snaps a bit more at everyone around him. He’s finding the smallest things aggravating. He’s finding his mind fuzzing out at the edges as his brain tries forcing him to sleep at inopportune times. It’s a mess and he’s taking to pinching his arms and even biting at his knuckles to keep him focused. 

It’s not exactly a healthy way to do it, he’s aware. But he’s also not expecting anyone to notice or call him out on it. However, things don’t always go as expected, especially not in a war zone with magical mecha-lions and the power of friendship.

“Keith, seriously, what’s been up with you man?” Lance pulls him aside after a debrief about a recent mission. Keith has to give him credit for making this something private between the two of them when he could have done it in front of the others. 

“What do you mean?” He asks. 

“I’ve seen what you’ve been doing,” Lance tells him, his hand taking Keith’s. “You’re hurting yourself. And look, maybe it’s not my place, but that doesn’t  _ seem _ like you. Or if it is, it’s  _ clearly _ getting worse and you need help.” Keith finds himself pulling away from Lance entirely.

“I don’t  _ need _ help. I’m fine.” He turns his back to Lance who refuses to let it go. 

“Keith, it’s obvious you’re struggling with something. I just want to help.” 

“Take your help and shove it somewhere else. I’m going to the training room.” Keith snaps and heads off that way.

.zzz.

He’s out in the desert again and he’s looking for  _ his mom _ . He’s running through the sand with the sun on his back. He trips on his own feet and lands -- on burning hot concrete, scuffing his knees and choking on the smoke.  _ His dad should be here, where is he? _ He pushes himself back up and -- stands in a metal hallway with thin air and alarms.  _ Where’s Shiro? _

He takes a turn and runs through smoke and fire. Stumbling into a building sends him spilling out against the sandy wastelands and bright sunlight. He screams louder than the alarms in frustration and it echoes off metal walls. Every blink the scenery shifts. 

He’s looking for... 

_ MDSAOAHLMDIORNOE _

_ MODASHALMDIRONOE _

_ MOMDADSHIROALONE _

_ MOM DAD SHIRO _

_ ALONE. _

.ooo.

Keith is so fucking  _ tired _ . He can’t make himself fall asleep without the sense of dread clawing at his dreams. Pinching his arm has evolved into tugging at his hair, biting his knuckles moves into biting his arm. It’s a struggle to stay awake now and it shows.

He fumbles in simple training exercises, can’t hold a civil conversation anymore, desperately chugging anything that’s vaguely caffeinated. He lays in bed and stares up at his dark ceiling, feeling panic settle in his ribs before he’s even asleep. He gets up and paces around and ends up going through motions of boxing forms and stances.

Muscle memory takes over for him, especially as he throws a few, non-regulation moves borrowed from other fighting styles. He’s a dirty fighter after all. But the motions do little to soothe the anxious bubble in his chest at the thought of sleeping. He’s simply sweaty, tired, and  _ more _ anxious than before. 

“Come on!” He growls, kicking at the wall for good measure before stepping out of his room. He drags his hands along his face as he leans against the wall.

“Keith?” Lance steps out of his room with a small yawn. “What’re you doing up?”

“...Nothing.” He pulls his hands away to look at Lance.

“Mhmm. And I’m the queen of England.” He rolls his eyes.

“It’s fine, Lance.”

“Pardon my French, but I call bullshit.”

“Lance.” He groans.

“Look, at  _ least _ go talk to Shiro if not me?” He crosses his arms as he leans against his doorway. But they both know it’s not going to happen. Because on the off-chance  _ Shiro _ is asleep, the man will need it. He’s probably running on more fumes than Keith is but simply knows how to hide it better.

“...I can’t sleep.” Keith admits. Lance nods then waves Keith over to him. When he’s close enough, Lance grabs him by the arm and pulls him into his room.

“Come on, sleepover time.” He says in response to the sputter Keith produces. “My little cousins would do this all the time with me and  _ I _ would do it all the time with my older siblings too. Sleeping next to someone helps, at least for me.” He lets go and sits on the edge of his bed. 

“I don’t…” Keith hasn’t shared a bed with anyone since he was about six or seven, curled up with his dad, and dying of a fever.

“I won’t make you sleep in the same bed as me, but sleeping in the same room could help?” Lance shrugs.

“Where else would I sleep?” He rolls his eyes as he walks to Lance’s bed and flops back against it. 

“Do you want the wall or the edge?” Lance asks.

“Wall.” Keith scoots until his back is flushed with the wall. Lance nods and lays next to him. 

He falls asleep far faster than he’d like to admit. 

The best part was the lack of dreams.

The big drawback, he’s tangled in Lance’s arms when he wakes up. He should feel embarrassed or something but his exhaustion still plagues him and he can’t bring himself to mind all that much about it. Neither of them really talk about it in the morning light either. 

And when he sleeps in his own room the following night, only to be plagued by another messy dream, he finds himself knocking gently on Lance’s door. Lance opens it, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looks at Keith standing there. 

“Can I...um…”

“Yeah.” Lance waves him in and they fall asleep in the same bed together.

It becomes enough of a pattern that Lance tells him to skip the formalities and just come to his room after dinner. Keith really feels there was a better way of phrasing it but complies with the request anyway. He’s then subjected to Lance painting a mask over his face while pinning his hair back. They lay beside each other as they wait for it to dry.

“It’s making my face itch,” Keith says.

“That means it’s working,” Lance tells him. 

“Awful.” He sighs. Lance falls silent as he thinks about something.

“Hey, Keith?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s been keeping you awake?” He looks over at Keith.

“Nothing really.” He lies, glancing away. Lance clicks his tongue but drops the subject.

“You should talk to someone you know?”

“I’ll be fine,” Keith tells him. It’s true too. The nights staying with Lance means he’s been able to sleep properly and recover from his self-destructive habits. It’s the most well-rested he’s ever been since the start of this whole thing. 

.zzz.

He’s running through the castleship but it’s become a twist of long hallways and corridors. Something is missing, he’s lost someone again. The halls are like ice, he can see his breath form a soft mist. He rubs his cold arms as he looks around, blue lights casting an eerie sensation over the empty corridors.

“Hello?” His teeth chatter and he peers into every empty room. There’s no one here. Who is he looking for? The ground under him rumbles and water slowly oozes up. He shakes his head and starts running again. He knows who he’s looking for by the time the frigid water is at his mid-calf.

“Lance!?” He calls out. There’s no answer. He has no idea where he is in the castle, if he’s even in it at this rate. The water is rushing in faster and soon he can’t run as he had before. He shuffles awkwardly through it all, teeth clattering hard as he looks around desperately for his fellow teammate.

“Lance!” He finds himself falling to a standstill, body too tired, and too cold to keep moving. The water slowly covers his face. He’s going to drown. He’s alone. He struggles to hold his breath and then there’s a hand wrapping around his arm.

“Keith?” 

.ooo.

He jolts upright, choking on his spit as someone rubs their hands along his back. He looks over at the source and sees Lance sitting there with concern written all over him.

“Are you okay? You kept saying my name. It sounded like you were scared.” He says. Keith finds himself on the edge of something he can’t quite name as he stares at Lance. 

“I…” He licks his lips as he shivers. The blankets are on the floor and he wonders who had kicked them off in the night, him or Lance. Lance doesn’t say anything, letting Keith gather the words he needs while his hands never stop their soothing circles along his body. Keith takes in a deep breath. 

“I keep having nightmares.” He says and Lance nods. “I’m always looking for someone, my mom, my dad, or even Shiro. But I can’t find them. I’m just…” He falters on his words, as if speaking them would bring it into reality. 

“Alone?” Lance whispers though as if reading Keith’s mind. He manages a small nod. 

“I’m always alone.” 

“And this one? Were you… looking for me?” Lance tilts his head. 

“...I was.” He chews his lip. “It was the castle and it was so  _ cold _ and just filling with water and I was going to drown, but you woke me up.”

“Jesus,” Lance whispers, and he leans down to pick a blanket up off the floor. He wraps it around Keith’s shoulders and rubs his arms with the blanket. 

Keith tips over the edge. His jaw wobbles as the sting of tears come to him. He lets himself fall forward and tucks his face into Lance’s neck. Lance pauses for a moment, shocked probably, but his arms fall around Keith and hold him close.

“I’m so  _ scared _ of being alone again.” He chokes on his sob. 

“But you’re not alone.”

“You don’t  _ know _ that. All of you could just vanish into thin air or -- or die! And I’d have no one!” His hands reach out and cling to Lance’s shirt.

“That’s not true. We aren’t going anywhere, Keith.”

“I can’t -- I can’t do it again. I can’t lose the people I care about  _ again _ .” 

“And you won’t. We’re gonna be safe. I promise.” Lance rubs his back. He cries as Lance holds him. Cries for the mother who’d disappeared before he was even old enough to remember her. Cries for the dad who most likely gave his life to save another. Cries for the lost year between him and Shiro. Cries at the  _ thought _ of Lance leaving him the way everyone else ever has in his life.

Lance doesn’t say anything, but neither does he. He simply holds him, rocks them back and forth gently while rubbing his back. When the tears finally die out as he’s left with gaspy, wet, breaths and he leans back and looks at Lance.

“Better?” He asks.

“Not really,” Keith admits. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“...You want my tragic backstory?” He wipes his face.

“I want you to be okay. If talking about it helps, then let’s talk about it.” He shrugs.

So he tells Lance everything. All of his fears of abandonment and rejection and the ugly barbed wires he’d long since wrapped himself in to protect his heart. The thing with barbed wire though, is that there isn’t exactly a safe place to be. The thing he’d used to protect himself as a kid only hurt him the older he got. 

He’s too afraid to reach out and let people in, lest they see something of no worth and leave him behind. If he pushes them away with sharp actions and sharper words, he can’t get hurt when they disappear. It leads him to lack friends, family, forcing him into isolation where he suffers the most. 

And Lance, he nods in understanding through it all. He interrupts for clarification about certain topics, but mostly is silent and listening. He doesn’t stop holding Keith, arms still looped around his shoulders and a hand rubbing his back. And as much as Keith didn’t think it would, it honestly helps to finally  _ talk _ about this.

Lance lays them both down on the bed when he gets it all out. He rubs his shoulder and side as he holds him close. Lance talks about his issues, the wavering self-confidence, the severe doubt in his abilities, and his place on the team, even his own low self-worth, and lower self-esteem. Keith listens just as Lance had for him, making small remarks and questions every now and then.

The air feels lighter between them. Ugly weights they’ve held close to their chests finally settled somewhere else for the time being. It lets the two of them fall asleep in the other's arms between whispers of things they want, things they’d improve on.

Keith finds he doesn’t have his nightmares as much anymore. Especially not when he’s with Lance.

**Author's Note:**

> I do like writing dream sequences but at the same time they're a bit weird to explain? Especially that one part where Keith is trying to remember who he's looking for. I couldn't figure out how I wanted to format it but know it's essentially the words running over one another
> 
> Day 31 is "Free Space" and I have a small survey to see what prompt you guys would like me to use for that day. It's a simple google form with five options and it should allow you to do it without needing an email. I will close the form tomorrow and announce the winner on the 30th You can find it here: https://forms.gle/GE36oDv1s8B7dohp8
> 
> Feel free to talk to me on demon-sushi on Tumblr or in the comments below <3


End file.
